The Artist and His Muse
by Bex-La-Get
Summary: The moment an artist discovers his greatest inspiration. Dramione. Oneshot. All rights belong to JK Rowling.


_**Hello friends! This is just a little oneshot I wrote out of boredom. I hope you like it!**_

 _ **This a Muggle/No War AU just for your reference.**_

 _ **Tallyho!**_

* * *

Draco stared at his canvas and sighed. It was hopeless. No matter how long he brainstormed ideas until the early hours of the morning or sketched until his hand cramped, he couldn't think of anything to paint. And he _hated_ it.

His father's words ran through his head: _People who choose art as a profession have nothing better to do with their time. You do, Draco. So drop this silly hobby before it becomes a distraction._ Draco shook his head. So what if his father didn't approve of his passion for art? His mother did and so his wife. And their opinions mattered most to him… right?

He jumped when he heard the door downstairs close and ran his hands through his hair. "Draco?" Hermione called.

"I'm in the studio, love," he replied.

He waited as she wandered up the stairs to the spare bedroom that they had turned into a studio for him after they had moved into their flat. When he felt her arms hug his shoulders, he leaned into her embrace and tipped his head back to kiss her softly.

"Hi," Hermione said, giving him a small smile.

"Hi," he replied, returning her smile.

She looked up to the canvas and noticed it was blank. "No luck?"

He sighed and stood up, Hermione's hands falling off him as he moved to the window and watched the rainfall. "Nothing; I can't think of a blasted thing to sketch or paint." He sighed and rested his head against the cold window as Hermione's arms snaked around his waist and she held him close. "What if my father's right, Hermione?"

She looked up to him shocked. "Draco!"

"I'm not beating myself up, Hermione; I'm being completely serious. What if my passion for painting was just a quick fascination of sorts? What if I really don't have a passion for this?"

Hermione took Draco's face in her hands and forced him to look at her. "You listen to me, Draco Malfoy: you were _made_ to be a painter. The things I've seen you create are so beautiful and unlike anything else out there. Your father just doesn't understand but he will in time; he just hasn't seen what you can _really_ do yet. I know that this is right for you, Draco; don't give up yet. Promise me."

He gave her a small smile and nodded. "Okay, love. I promise."

She smiled and gave him a chaste kiss. "Good; now how about you give yourself a break for a bit and come have dinner with me. I brought Thai food," she said, grinning.

Draco laughed and smiled as he followed his wife downstairs, forgetting his problem for a while.

* * *

Later that evening, after a filling dinner and some passionate love making, Draco laid in bed and smiled at his wife. She had always been beautiful, but something about looking at her with her curly hair flying everywhere, a thin layer of sweat resting on her, and a slight flush to her face made him think she was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. His pale fingers traced invisible patterns onto her dark skin and she sighed contentedly as he watched her.

"What are you thinking?" she asked.

He chuckled. "I was just thinking about how beautiful you are," he said. She rolled her eyes and he placed a soft kiss on her lips. "I mean it; you're a beautiful woman, Hermione. And I'm the luckiest man alive to be married to you."

"Damn straight," Hermione replied, causing Draco to laugh. She smiled at him and watched as his face began to scrunch as it always did when he was brainstorming. "What is it?" she asked.

"I have an idea," he answered. Throwing the covers off himself and pulling on a pair of sweatpants, he disappeared out of the room only to come back moments later with his sketchpad and pencil in hand. "I want to sketch you," he said.

She sat up. "What?"

"It's just an idea I have," he answered. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course," she said.

"Then will you trust me with this? I promise I'll let you see it afterwards."

She hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Okay," she said.

He smiled and put on a pair of glasses he only wore when he was working. "Lay on your stomach," he instructed. She did as she was told and he adjusted the sheets on her so they were only covering her arse and legs. He told her to hold herself up on one arm while the other held her head up as he placed a book in front of her. He positioned her curls in such a way that they fell around her shoulders without blocking her face then nodded in confirmation. "Perfect. Think you can stay like that for a bit, love?"

She smiled at him and winked. "I've been in stranger positions before, love; this is nothing compared to that."

He winked at her and kissed her, biting her lower lip a little before sitting in a chair across from the bed and beginning to sketch her. Within a moment, Draco transitioned from a loving husband to an artist at work. Hermione- having been a hand model for Draco only once before- knew not to move while he worked unless it was completely necessary- and turning the pages of the book counted as necessary, of course. But she couldn't focus on the book; instead, she watched him. She loved watching him work: the way his eyes darkened as he focused on his task, his hand moving so swiftly on the page, and the way his lips pursed in concentration. She found it endearing and sexy all at the same time.

"Look at the book, please, love," he said.

Hermione looked back down to the book and bit down a laugh. "Sorry, love."

For the next hour and a half, Hermione read while her husband sketched her. She always loved listening to him sketch; it was almost calming, the sounds his pencil made against the paper. But all too soon, the sounds stopped and Draco was finished. Hermione looked up and saw her husband looking at his sketchpad with amazement in his eyes. "Draco?"

He looked up at her and smiled. "It's finished; would you like to see?"

She nodded and sat up, covering the top of herself with the sheet as Draco sat next to her on the bed and showed her the sketch. "Wow," she whispered. "She's beautiful," she said, speaking of the woman in the picture.

"You're beautiful," Draco replied.

She looked up to him and smiled, kissing him softly. "I love you," she said.

"I love you too," he replied against her lips. Putting the sketchpad down, he rolled over and covered his wife with his body and began to kiss her passionately. As their activities became more heated, the sketchpad fell to the floor forgotten temporarily.

* * *

From that point on, Draco had found his muse: her. He began to sketch and paint pictures of her almost daily; and she was more than happy to pose for him. Even when he was having her pose, he never lost his gentleness with her. When he would move her hands or arms to a certain position, his fingers always lingered on her skin; whenever he moved her head, he'd always kiss her lips softly, staying there for just half a second longer than he should have; and he'd always smile that big beautiful smile that she fell in love with before becoming so focused, it looked as if his face would remain that way forever.

Soon, his studio was overflowing with sketches and paintings of Hermione with a few landscape paintings he did in his free time in the mix. One afternoon, while Hermione was at work, he invited his mother over to have a look at some of his work.

"Hermione's just become this _beacon_ of inspiration for me, mum. I've never felt so inspired," he said.

Narcissa chuckled. "Well, I'm glad she's helping you, love." She put her hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eyes. "No matter what your father says, I think that it's great that you've found a passion and I encourage you to pursue it as long as it makes you happy."

Draco smiled. "Thanks mum."

She returned his smile then followed him around the room as he showed off his various artworks. He had to resist from laughing at Narcissa's raised eyebrows at the various nude portraits of Hermione. "The human body is a fascinating thing to paint, mother," Draco said in defense.

" _The_ human body? Or just a _particular_ human body?" she asked.

Draco didn't answer. Instead, he led his mother to a canvas that was covered by a sheet in the corner of the room. "I haven't shown Hermione this one yet because I'm waiting until it's finished."

He unveiled the canvas to reveal a painting-in-progress of the original sketch he did of Hermione. "Wow," Narcissa said. "It looks like it's going to be beautiful once it's done."

"I'm glad you think so," Draco smiled. "This is based off the very first sketch I did of Hermione. I just kept looking at the sketch and felt unsatisfied with it so I decided to paint it. I know it's not done yet but already it feels more complete."

Narcissa pursed her lips and cocked her head to the side. "What?" Draco asked.

"What are your plans to do with all these paintings and sketches, love?"

Draco furrowed his brows. "Plans? I- I'm not sure I have any plans for them. Why?"

"Because I have a friend who owns an art gallery in London and he's got an opening for a gallery coming up. How would you feel if I asked him to at least check out your work and see if it's what he wants for the gallery?"

Draco thought for a moment. "Actually, mum, I'd love that. It'd be a way to get my art out there, even if nothing sells. Are you sure it wouldn't be a problem?"

Narcissa shook her head. "Of course not; he owes me a favor anyway. I can't guarantee that he'll choose your work but I can at least get you a meeting."

"A meeting is all I'll need," Draco said.

* * *

Several weeks later, Draco arrived at a small building in central London. From the outside, it looked like any regular business but when Draco walked in, he could see why this building was so important for an artist to present their work here. It was set up like any normal art gallery but the ambiance that the place gave off suggested importance. Draco almost felt like he wasn't worthy of showing his work here; but he wasn't about to back down now.

"Mr. Malfoy?" a voice said.

Draco turned and came face to face with the owner of the gallery: Perry Lucas. He was a tall, balding man with glasses and dressed as if he were going to a fancy dinner; according to Narcissa, that's how he _always_ dressed, no matter the occasion.

Draco stuck his hand out to shake. "Yes, that's me. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Lucas."

Lucas smiled and shook Draco's hand. "The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Malfoy. Your mother said that you have some artwork that you'd like to show me." Draco nodded. "Excellent; if you'll follow me," Lucas said.

He led Draco to a back office where a table sat in the middle of the room with studio lights hanging above it. "If you could place your art here on the table, Mr. Malfoy," Lucas said. "Are any of your artworks sensitive to light?"

Draco shook his head and proceeded to put his paintings and sketches on the table. He started with his landscapes- having brought two of them, then began to lay his sketches out, pulling several paintings of Hermione out last. As soon as Lucas saw the paintings, his eyes widened. "Good heavens," he said. "These are quite remarkable, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco bit his lip to keep from grinning. "Thank you," he replied.

"Who is the model?" Lucas asked.

This time, Draco didn't hide his smile. "My wife, actually."

Lucas' eyebrows raised and he pursed his lips. "She's quite beautiful."

"Yeah, she is," Draco replied, quietly.

It took Lucas only about thirty minutes to scan all of the work Draco had brought before he made the decision to showcase his work. "How many works do you have overall?" Lucas asked.

Draco thought for a moment. "Close to fifty, probably, although many of those are sketches."

"Sketches are fine," Lucas said. "How many more paintings can you make of your wife?"

Draco was surprised at the question but didn't hesitate to answer. "I have several sketches of her that have yet to be painted; I could paint those within a couple days or so. As for something original, it might take a bit longer. A week or so, maybe."

Lucas nodded. "Go ahead and paint some of those sketches that you have; we can do a side by side comparison at the showing; if you _can_ paint something original, go for it. But if you can't, I don't think it will be too devastating." Lucas smiled at Draco and patted him on the shoulder. "You have a gift, Mr. Malfoy. I think, together, you and I could make a great team."

Draco smiled. "Thank you, Mr. Lucas."

"Perry, please."

Draco nodded and shook the man's hand. "Thank you very much, Perry."

* * *

Draco smiled as Hermione walked into the room in her wedding dress. She blushed as he watched her walk towards him and shook her head. "I look silly," she said.

"No," he said, "you look beautiful." He placed a soft kiss on her lips and smiled when he felt her melt into the kiss. When they broke the kiss, Hermione cleared her throat. "Okay, love. You got me to put this on. What's the plan?"

"Well, the plan was to paint you in your dress but now I just want to marry you all over again," Draco said.

Hermione laughed and kissed him. "We'll see what happens after the gallery opening. Our five year anniversary is coming up soon, after all."

Draco grinned. "Now you've got me planning."

She laughed and rolled her eyes. "What do you want me to do?"

Draco led her to the backyard and had her sit in a porch swing he had installed shortly after they had moved in. After adjusting her to the position he wanted her in, he ran back to his canvas and began to paint, his brush never faltering.

After an hour of sitting for that painting, Draco sent her back upstairs to change into a black dress he had bought for her specifically for his next painting. When she returned, he sat her down in a similar position to before but ensured that it appeared more melancholy this time. He only kept her for half an hour this time as he already knew what he was painting this time so he didn't need to keep her for as long. It would be another hour and a half before she could see the paintings, however.

She stood next to him and analyzed the two paintings as they sat side by side. "It's heartbreaking," she observed.

"Too heartbreaking?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Not at all; it just might hit home for some is all." She turned her attention to him and hugged him around the waist. "They're beautiful, Draco. I think Perry is going to love them."

He smiled down at her and kissed her forehead. "I hope so," he said.

* * *

"Everything's ready," Perry Lucas said, smiling at Draco. He returned the smile half-heartedly; something Perry didn't miss. "Nervous?"

"Terrified," Draco replied. "My father is coming tonight and… well, he doesn't exactly approve of my career choice."

Perry shook his head. "I can understand how that'd make you nervous, Draco, but don't think about that. You're a very talented artist; your father has just yet to see that. Hopefully, after tonight, he will."

Draco nodded. "I hope you're right."

"I always am," Perry said causing Draco to laugh.

"You sound like my wife," he mused.

Perry grinned at that. "Speaking of which, where is your wife? I'm dying to meet her."

"She should be here soon," Draco said. Right as he said so, the gallery door opened and Hermione walked in, wearing a beautiful red cocktail dress that hugged her in all the right places. In that moment, Draco had been incredibly grateful for his aristocratic upbringing; otherwise, he would have been ogling his wife in the same inappropriate way that Perry was right now. "Ahem," Draco said, getting Perry's attention.

Perry shook his head and cleared his throat before shaking Hermione's hand. "So this is the famous Hermione; it's a pleasure to meet you."

She smiled and wrapped her arm around Draco's waist. "Likewise," she said.

Before Perry could say anything else, the door opened again and a woman with a very thick French accent began to speak to Perry very excitedly. Perry looked to them and smiled. "Showtime," he said, before walking over to the French woman.

Hermione looked up to Draco and smiled. "You ready?"

"Not yet," he said, leaning down to kiss her. When they broke apart, he smiled and nodded. "Now I am," he said. "You look beautiful, by the way. I haven't seen this one before."

"I bought it special for tonight," she smiled at him.

He nodded. "It's very becoming on you," he said. Glancing over to Perry and seeing that he was preoccupied, Draco took Hermione's hand in hers. "Come with me, there's something I want to show you before everyone else gets here."

He led her to the back of the gallery and smiled as she gasped at the painting he wanted to show her. "Draco… is that-"

"A painting of the original sketch I did of you? Yeah," he said, smiling. "Do you like it?"

Tears filled her eyes and she wiped them away before her makeup smeared. "I love it; why didn't you tell me you were painting that?"

"I wanted to surprise you," he said. "I've already spoken with Perry about this one too; it won't be put up for auction. We'll get to take this one home. And you'll like what I named it too: _My Bookworm_."

She grinned and stood on her toes to kiss him. "Thank you," she said.

"You're welcome," he said, kissing her again. As the kiss broke, they could hear the door open in the front and more voices began to flood the building. "Time to face the music," Draco said, taking Hermione's hand in his.

* * *

The showing was going swimmingly. Several visitors had bought multiple paintings already and the night was still very young. Narcissa and Lucius had arrived shortly after the showing had started but Draco couldn't speak with them for long as he had to several interviews and take some press shots with Perry and other important art critics. He had noticed Hermione tend to his parents but she too had been roped into a conversation of her own so they were left to their own devices. Draco would have given anything to have been a fly on the wall as they perused the gallery.

As for Hermione, she was getting overwhelmed with all the compliments she was receiving. "Are you sure this is your first time modeling for someone?" An older gentleman asked. "Because you look like a natural."

She blushed. "Thank you but yes, it is the only time I've ever modeled for someone."

"Would you consider doing it professionally?" a woman asks.

Hermione shook her head. "No; the only person I would want to model for would be my husband. Besides, I'm very happy with my current job."

"Oh?" Another woman asked. "What do you do?"

Hermione smiled. "I'm a curator for an art museum," she replied.

The woman raised her eyebrows and smiled. "Really? So it appears that both you and your husband have an appreciation for the arts?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes; he's much better at creating art than I am but we both have a passion for all sorts of art; it's what brought us together, actually."

"How romantic," the other woman said.

Hermione's smile grew. "You might say that, yes."

In that moment, Narcissa put her hand on Hermione's shoulder and excused her daughter-in-law from her current conversation to pull her over to the paintings where Hermione had sat in her wedding dress and the black dress; it had been appropriately named _The Bride/The Widow_. "These are quite beautiful in a very haunting way," Narcissa mused. "How'd Draco do it?"

Hermione shrugged. "There wasn't a whole lot of process to it that I saw; he knew what he wanted to paint. All he needed to get it done was me."

"I love them." Narcissa leaned over to Hermione and smiled. "How do you think he'd feel if I bought them?"

Hermione grinned. "I think he'd be delighted."

A grunt from next to them pulled them out of their conversation. Narcissa looked away from Hermione and to her husband. "Yes Lucius?"

Lucius cleared his throat and shook his head. "Nothing, dear," he said. Hermione watched as his eyes scanned the various paintings and sketches that lined the walls.

"What do you think so far, Lucius?" Hermione asked.

Something flashed in Lucius' eyes but it was too fast for Hermione to pick anything up. "He's not bad," Lucius said.

Both Hermione and Narcissa frowned at that. "'Not bad?'" Hermione said. "Perry wouldn't have gone through the effort he did to put this together if he thought Draco's work was 'not bad.' I know you don't support this as a career for him, but this is his passion. He's _happy_ when he's painting; he's- he's free. And he's bloody good at it too. He doesn't do this for the money, he doesn't do this because it might make him famous; he does it because it makes him happy. At the end of the day, that should be the most important thing."

Lucius and Narcissa watched, speechless, as Hermione walked away from them over to their son, surely telling him everything that had just transpired. Narcissa glared up at her husband and pinched his arm. "Ow," Lucius said, looking to his wife. " _What_?"

"She's right, you know," Narcissa said.

Lucius sighed and looked back to his son and daughter-in-law who were now having a private moment between them despite being surrounded by people. "I know," he muttered. He watched as the young couple kissed and smiled at one another, talking quietly to each other. "I hate to admit it, but she has a point. Maybe I have been too hard on Draco."

Narcissa scoffed. "That's the understatement of the year, my love."

Lucius rolled his eyes. "He is quite good, actually."

"You should tell him that," Narcissa said.

Lucius glanced at her and saw her looking at him with pursed lips. He sighed. "I will love; I promise."

* * *

As the gallery started to die down, Draco sighed in relief. The night had been far more successful than he had hoped. More than half the paintings and sketches- including the one Narcissa wanted- had been bought and the rest, Perry wanted to keep to put in a mini exhibit when the gallery was open for the public later on in the month. By the time Draco and Hermione started to pack things up, they were only taking home three paintings- two of Hermione and one landscape- and several sketches.

As they wrapped up for the night, Lucius and Narcissa walked over to the young couple. "Well, we're off," Narcissa said, hugging Hermione.

"I'm glad you could make it," Hermione said, pulling out of the hug.

"It was our pleasure," Narcissa said. She looked over to her husband who was looking at his son. He cleared his throat and spoke.

"Draco, I've made my opinion on your career choice very clear," he began. "But after tonight, it appears that I was wrong." Draco perked up at his father's confession and fought a smile that was growing on his face. "Looking at these paintings tonight made me realize just how talented you really are and how happy doing this makes you; so, I wanted to apologize for my behavior and tell you how proud I am of you."

Draco grinned. "Thank you, Father. That means a lot."

"You deserve all the praise you get, son," Lucius said. "You really do have a gift."

Still smiling, Draco hugged his father. "Thanks dad."

Lucius smiled and patted his son on the back. When they pulled out of the hug, Draco gave his mother a tight hug as well while Hermione also hugged Lucius, surprising the Malfoy patriarch. "Sorry about earlier," she said, pulling out of the hug.

Lucius shook his head. "Don't be; you put a lot of things into perspective for me. Thank you."

She smiled and took Draco's hand, watching as her in-laws left the gallery. She looked up to her husband and saw him grinning from ear to ear. She stood up on her toes and kissed his cheek, squeezing his hand. "You ready to go home?"

He looked at her and nodded. "Yeah," he replied.

* * *

As they laid in bed, Draco smiled and kissed Hermione's forehead. "Thank you," he said.

"For what?" she asked.

"For becoming my muse," he said. "I was feeling so sorry for myself about my art and then this idea pops into my head and you just run with it, letting me do whatever I need to to get my thoughts onto paper or canvas. I'm just so grateful for you."

She smiled and kissed him softly. "I'm glad I could help you," she said. "And I'm willing to be your model forever if you need me."

"I'm going to take you up on that offer," he said, causing her to laugh.

"Good," she replied.

He caressed her face with one hand and kissed her lips, passionately. "I love you," he whispered against her lips.

"I love you too," she said, crashing her lips against his again. They continued to kiss and make love to one another, all while the _Bookworm_ painting sat above their bed, reminding them of where it all started.

 **The End.**

* * *

 ** _Hermione's wedding dress, funeral dress, and red dress are on the Oneshot board on my Pinterest. The inspiration for the Bookworm and Bride/Widow paintings are also on there._**

 ** _Please review._**


End file.
